


forgotten realms

by loser4winwin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy AU, M/M, Maybe I'll continue this, Oops, Tags May Change, The Author Is A Mess, accidentally decided to include the dnd pantheon, but it is, doyoung is a cartographer, doyoung is a free soul you can't trap him, doyoung is an elf, except i modified it to fit my plot, he draws maps yall he a talented bitch, i didn't plan for this to be a slow burn fic, im literally rolling a d20 to decide on the plot, inspired by a random plot generator, jaehyun lives in the desert, set is forgotten realms bc i love dnd, so now we have multiple gods, taeyong is a changeling, the tags are a mess, title may change, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-26 19:29:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loser4winwin/pseuds/loser4winwin
Summary: How Doyoung ended up involved in royal politics, he doesn't know. What he knows is he wants to work on his maps in isolation and peace, but getting involved in a coup may be the only way to save what he treasures the most: freedom.***Irregular updates. Prompt taken from an online plot generator. Started out as a joke, but for some reason it got serious. Yell at me on my cc, maybe for once it will serve a purpose other than me asking anon questions to my favorite writers.https://curiouscat.me/heart_hyuck





	1. i.

Doyoung opens his eyes. A spider stares right back at him. It takes Doyoung a moment to realize he’s no longer dreaming, and the spider way too close to his face for its own good. Doyoung carefully grabs the spider, still in a daze after having woken up so suddenly, and walks to the nearest window. He drops the spider outside and takes a moment to gaze at the seaside view. It’s early in the morning, the fishermen already small blimps on the horizon. The crisp, cool air of the morning is still fresh as the sun has barely risen, and seagulls are rioting at the golden rays of the day. Doyoung is suddenly aware that the seagulls were what woke him up. He looks down at the place he released the spider at, and he doesn’t see the spider. It was stupid to think even for a second that the spider would still be there, staring right back at him.

After closing the window, Doyoung goes back inside, unable to contain his sneeze at the dusty air inside the armory. After the fresh morning air, the stifling dust and smoke inside the armory burns. Doyoung yearns to be back in the forests and shores once again, in lands with no trace of humans, and no other friends than spiders greeting him in the mornings. From the clatter of the townsfolk going about their day outside, Doyoung can feel a headache coming. He moves over to his makeshift desk, no hurry in his steps. Doyoung is a man dedicated to his job, exploring uninhabited lands and meticulously recording every detail in his maps and journals. A crackle from the fireplace in the corner takes him back to his journeys where the only sound for miles were the crickets, his campfire, mice feet on the soil, and the owls in the sky. Journeys in which he was one with his surroundings and an omniscient observer, both at the same time. In which his only worry in the world were his maps, journals and various scrap papers of notes and unexplored projects, vast areas of unexplored land. He doesn’t remember the transition from the wilderness to the city armory.

He remembers explosions of light and sound, and then he remembers utter nothingness. One day he was in the wilds, the next he woke up confined to a hospital bed. He doesn’t remember the hospital surroundings very clearly, just that it was run by a bunch of humans, but he remembers one person from the hospital in great detail. The room was entirely white as far as he could see from his bed, and the only company he had was a handsome young man. He was obviously a fellow elf, too well-groomed for someone who ended up in a human hospital. It was unusual for elves to end up in human hospitals; elves almost always came from higher-class families, and magicless human hospitals were known to serve nobodies and criminals. Then again, Doyoung was an elf from an upper-class family, and he had ended up in the bed next to the handsome man. Doyoung never saw anything below the pretty pendant he wore high on his neck, he was always covered in white sheets, and he never moved. Until Doyoung’s discharge, there was one incident where the young man’s sheets turned red. At first, Doyoung thought it was a light trick from the sunrise, but then doctors immediately rushed to the man’s side, curtains were drawn, and Doyoung didn’t hear from him again until the next sunrise. 

It was clearly a poor hospital run by the optimistic ideologies only humans could maintain. Ideally, Doyoung would have magicked himself out of the situation, but he had lost his magical abilities in a desert temple a while back. His calling was a dangerous one, but it was the only one for Doyoung. Devoting a lifetime to moldy libraries was not for people like Doyoung, who had the wilds in their blood. Sure, he got his thirst for knowledge from his mother, a wizard dedicated to studying the Weave; she spent most of her time in their gigantic library. Doyoung’s mind wandered to his mother for a moment, and how she was probably still in there, learning and creating new spells, studying the ancient spellbooks on the shelves. After his father died on duty battling a dragon, Doyoung’s mother was enraged at Doyoung for wanting to go out into the wilds, and follow his father’s footsteps. Cartography and field research on magical herbs and animals seemed to suit Doyoung the most, it satiated his need for both erudition and a feral lifestyle. Doyoung’s mother was having none of it, “If you are going to follow your father’s footsteps to death, don’t ever come back to this house,” she had said, tears in her eyes and voice wavering. “You’re already dead to me.”

Doyoung had left without looking back, and he hasn’t looked back in the five years he spent doing what he loved the most. His love for his work cost him his control over the Weave, but Doyoung can do without it. Today is the first time for him to look back, but he doesn’t allow himself to think of what could have happened if he had stayed. He can’t afford to regret it right now, there is nothing he can change, and he has no home to return to.

Doyoung now thinks back to the hospital; he’s trying not to think about what he left behind, and finds himself immersed in his memories of the handsome young man from the hospital. Of their conversations from dawn to dusk, from sunset to sunrise. Time was a blur in the hospital, measured by the count of how many times you had watched the sun rise and fall. 

“There is a war?” he had asked at forty-two, a sunrise. Over his years of mapping out and discovering the wilds, Doyoung had become so disconnected with civilization that he wasn’t even surprised he hadn’t heard about it.

“Yes,” the man had replied, “But they’re keeping it down low. Disguising the attacks as, say, terrorist attacks and accidents when it’s actually the king’s men hunting down the rebels. Civilians don’t know about it.”

“How do you know then?” 

“It’s hard not to know when you’re being hunted too.”

At that moment, Doyoung felt the burden of trust on his shoulders for the first time in years and felt a brief surge of protectiveness wash over him, he would keep this information to himself, and not speak to a soul about who this man was. Then, he realized he didn’t know the man’s name, he could very well be a shapeshifter, and gloom was quick to outweigh the feelings of protectiveness. He would never know who this man was, and Doyoung felt miserable knowing it was better that way. On fifty-three, it was a sunset, and the doctors told Doyoung he was discharged.

Doyoung was reluctant to leave, but it was clear he had overstayed his welcome, so he left. Now, he was renting the attic of some armory by the port, trying not to freeze to death, barely making ends meet by selling his drawings. He works on his unfinished maps and arranges his notes in his free time, and on occasion, skips out on his responsibilities while thinking of the young man in the hospital. He looks at the map laid out in front of him, then up to the fireplace, then out of the window. 

The port isn’t visible, it's only the lonely sea and the blank horizon. For a brief moment, Doyoung wonders where the fishermen on the horizon have gone. Then he stands up, feeling suffocated in the armory, and leaves to go outside. Strange, he thinks, as he walks through the vacant streets. There's a loud marketplace once a fortnight, and Doyoung remembers it to be today. He must have miscounted the days.

He never miscounts the days.

Feeling suffocated again as if the buildings were smothering him, Doyoung begins to run. He doesn’t look where he is running to, he doesn’t look around, he just looks at his feet and keeps running. 

He runs until the terrain feels strangely familiar and the blurred colors change from bland grays to lush hues of green. Doyoung stops, he doesn’t remember the forest being this close to the port.

He looks at the bag beside him, his companion on his journeys. He doesn’t remember packing it. Then he looks up. The young man from the hospital is staring right back at him, the soft smile on his face once again. “Go back inside,” he says. “The wilds are dangerous. You won’t be as lucky as the last time. Go back, or this time the war might not spare you.”

The words were meant to be so foreboding, yet the honey voice Doyoung remembers, and the dimples on his cheeks take Doyoung’s breath away. He reaches out, reaches out to touch the man in front of him, and suddenly there is a blinding outburst of light, and in an instant, Doyoung is back on his desk. He looks at the map laid out in front of him, then up to the fireplace, then out of the window. 

He looks at the blimps in the horizon, sighs, and stands up to leave. There will be no work getting done today, the marketplace is louder and more distracting than ever.

Doyoung goes outside in hopes of getting his mind off of his dream; he has some loose change, and he could use some drinking. Habitually, he packs his bags. The attic doesn’t have a lock on its door, and the owner doesn’t lock the front door during the day; Doyoung doesn’t want to leave his life work behind in an entirely unguarded attic. He doesn’t think much as he walks down the alley from the midst of the stands of the merchants and farmers. A necklace catches his eye amidst the stands, at first he doesn’t recognize it.

Then he remembers the pretty pendant, the young man, and when he looks up to the vendor, he sees a pair of familiar eyes behind the scarf covering the vendor’s face. Doyoung recognizes the headpiece from his days in deserts and dusty roads, traveling on the backs of camels and horses. For a moment, he imagines himself on the back of a horse galloping through a dusty forest road. “Hello,” Doyoung rasps. “I’m Doyoung.”

He can see the recognition in the man’s eyes. “I go by Jaehyun.” the man says. It has to be a feigned identity, a fake name, a criminal would not give out his name so easily, Doyoung thinks. Yet the man looks entirely at peace with his words. Jaehyun is either his real name, a foolish move for a criminal, or the man is an experienced liar. 

Jaehyun. They had revealed everything to each other in their hospital rooms, yet no names had ever been exchanged. Jaehyun wasn’t the most law-abiding person, Doyoung had surmised, so he hadn’t asked. Very few lawful citizens would have stab wounds such as his, and none would lie to the doctors about it being an accident. Oh how much Doyoung regrets never having asked for a name earlier; though, in hindsight, he knows he probably wouldn’t have gotten a truthful reply back then either.

For a brief moment, Doyoung includes Jaehyun in his daydreams. Traveling on the backs of horses galloping through a dusty forest road, Jaehyun riding in front of him... For a brief moment, Jaehyun looks back, slightly turning around on his horse; his eyes have the same expression as in Doyoung’s dream. 

Screams bring Doyoung back to reality, and there is an outburst of light. “Again?” is the last thought Doyoung has, and he barely registers someone yanking him by the shoulder. By the time the explosive sound follows the light, Doyoung is already out cold.

This time Doyoung wakes up in a Bedouin tent, not an overly sterile hospital room. His bag is next to him, so he knows he must be in safe hands; the tent is probably Jaehyun's. A spider crawls on the tent’s roof and shimmies its way outside. Doyoung looks at the intricate web it has spun on the corner; Jaehyun isn't the type to settle for so long. Doyoung reckons he must have been out for quite a while. He thinks back on his days in the city port, his life after having lost the wilds, and how he felt like one of the flies trapped on the spider's web. If the first bomb hadn’t injured him, he then thinks, he would have still been in the wilds, not having met Jaehyun at all. Doyoung inhales sharply, then sneezes because of the dusty desert air. Now, he has Jaehyun, and he is back in the wilds, where he belongs. 

Maybe the experiences hadn’t been pleasant while they lasted, just like the difficult patterns on the spider’s web. They hadn’t been easy to weave through, but they had sure put a positive spin on it in the end.

Jaehyun walks inside the tent, this time his scarf off. 

“So, what’s your real name?” is the first thing Doyoung asks. 

“Yoonoh."

Jaehyun sits on the end of the cot, carefully avoiding crushing Doyoung’s legs. Yoonoh, Doyoung corrects himself, not Jaehyun.

"But I prefer Jaehyun. Good morning, by the way.”

Doyoung sits up, his ears ringing. “How long was I out?” he asks. Each passing second, new questions surface on his mind. What was that explosion about? How was he alive? Why did Jaehyun take him along?

“About two days. The explosion only made you faint briefly, but you collapsed right after you woke up. Taeyong, our healer, says it’s shock, and the side effects of the treatment.”

Suddenly, a human sticks his head inside the tent, his dyed blond hair catching attention. He’s smiling, but his eyebrows are furrowed and eyes are worried. “Taeyong is asking if the elf is awake, he says he needs to do a check-up before we leave.”

“Doyoung is awake,” Jaehyun says, and Doyoung briefly forgets about the ringing of his ears looking at his dimples. “Doyoung, any complaints? Maybe Taeyong can help with some of them, ” Jaehyun continues.

Swallowing his questions, Doyoung mentions his ringing ears. Right after Yuta leaves to inform the healer, Doyoung turns to Jaehyun, who seems to notice the bewildered look in Doyoung’s eyes.

“I'll explain, don’t worry. Do you know where we are right now?”

Doyoung pondered for a moment. They were obviously in a desert, the Bedouin tents and the dry, dusty air being a dead giveaway. Doyoung thought back to all the deserts he had visited in the past five years.

“Redgate Desert,” Doyoung guesses, “The spider from this morning is especially common in the Redgate Desert.” he pauses for a moment, before adding, "People come here if they don’t want to be found.”

I would know, Doyoung thinks. His first expedition was to this very desert, the intensity of the Weave in this desert is particularly strong; it's particularly hard to manipulate the strings of magic here, difficult both to perform and detect magic. It's an ideal getaway place, but the infamous sandstorms and harsh climate make it difficult to survive for anyone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.

Jaehyun hums in confirmation, not surprised Doyoung got it right. It is his area of expertise, after all. There’s a brief pause, and Jaehyun takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“Taeyong will be here any moment. How is the ringing in your ears?” he says.

“I can’t go back to Moorwick Port?” Doyoung asks, completely switching the topic. Right now, he has too many questions to make small talk.

“They already saw you with me, I don’t want you to be killed just because you were seen talking to the wrong person.” Doyoung winces at the apologetic tone in Jaehyun’s voice. Jaehyun continues, “The Royal Patrol probably thinks you’re a part of the rebellion, they’ll recognize you in Moorwick Port.”

“What will you do with me, then?”

“Taeyong dealt with most of your injuries, but there are still some he couldn’t get to. You probably have a mild concussion. In about an hour, the caravan will leave to change locations. We’ll drop you off to a nearby town hospital."

Doyoung’s life in Moorwick flashes before his eyes. The thought of having to go to another town, stay in a claustrophobic, cheap room, makes chills run down Doyoung’s spine. I’ll do anything, he thinks to himself, anything to stay in the wilds and out of the city.

“I don’t want to go back to a city,” Doyoung says. “Is there any way I can stay out of the way of the bombs?”

Jaehyun scrunches his brows at Doyoung’s question, contemplating an answer.

“From what I know, the Patrol has orders to eliminate all suspicious activity. You wandering in the wilds, especially as a skilled elf, would certainly catch their attention.”

Doyoung’s shoulders slump, and he looks down on his lap. A sudden, reckless idea crosses Doyoung’s mind. He could, if Jaehyun let him, join the rebellion. What do I have to gain, thinks Doyoung. Jaehyun, the only company he has had in five years, that’s what, his brain supplies. What do I have to lose, he muses. He has no family, no friends, no home, and he can’t even explore freely like he desperately wants.

“Let me join you,” Doyoung blurts out.

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows.

“I promise I’m competent. I can’t live in the confines of a city, let me join you.”

“Are you sure? You can’t back out.”

The soft smile is back as Jaehyun speaks. The only time Doyoung felt as certain as this was five years ago when he made the decision to leave; he trusts Jaehyun, he's trusted him ever since their intimate conversations in the hospital. Doyoung could sense the mutual trust, Jaehyun had trusted him with a lot of sensitive information.

“I’ll do anything you ask me, just don’t take me back to the city,” Doyoung says.

The dimples deepen on Jaehyun’s cheeks.

“I’m asking you to trust me.”

Doyoung nods, and just as he is about to respond, a white-haired, slender man walks inside.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun greets the man. “Can I stay?”

Taeyong is hesitant for a moment. “I’d prefer if you didn’t. You know I prefer to carry out the treatments alone.”

Jaehyun gets up. “Okay,” he says. “I should probably get ready anyway. Are the tents all dismantled?”

“Aside from this one and yours, yes.”

“Good, we’ll leave in about three hours. Will you be done by then?”

Doyoung interrupts them. “You said I could stay?” he says, voice rising in alarm.

“Taking you to the city was never the plan. I was hoping you’d join us,” Jaehyun says.

Doyoung did not expect that.

“Taeyong will make a stop by a town to pick up supplies though, if you hadn’t said anything, he’d take you along. I was guessing you’d ask, though. I’ve never seen anyone so repulsed by the idea of living in a city.”

Doyoung feels called out, but he doesn’t say anything. Jaehyun disappears behind the curtain.

Taeyong speaks in a soothing voice. “I’ll begin the examination now, okay? This shouldn’t take very long."


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wagon ride.

The cart ride is going surprisingly smooth. Doyoung has never ridden in a cart before, especially not in a desert. Generally, carts are for the supplies, he’s either riding whatever animal is pulling the cart, sometimes walking alongside. On gravelly paths, the wooden wheels rattle the cart. Even if the animals could pull the cart without assistance, the cart is so uncomfortable that he wouldn’t sit in it anyway.

This time, he gets no choice. Taeyong said the concussion could make it dangerous to ride a camel as most others do. Instead, Doyoung has to sit in the caravan during travels until his concussion healed over time, or until Taeyong got his hands on the appropriate ingredients to make a cure.

_“You would be surprised how often those idiots get concussions,” Taeyong told Doyoung, “I’m just glad I had enough supplies to heal most of your wounds when you came in. The Royal Patrol uses explosives on their encounters when they don’t know their enemy’s race, you know, with elves being resistant against any sort of sleep magic. Jae has armor with magical protection against blast damage, but you had nothing to protect you from the explosion.”_

_Of course, Doyoung wanted to know what had happened when he was knocked out. Answering questions Doyoung asked seemed to ease Taeyong’s tense shoulders, Doyoung noted his stance had gotten more and more relaxed as he spoke. Despite his tense stance, Taeyong was definitely at his element; it was obvious from the way he spoke. As a child, Doyoung called it the Medic Voice; the healer at his home used to speak in that tone whenever she had to heal someone. The Medic Voice had an instant soothing effect, almost magical. Doyoung immediately shook himself out of his memories. Taeyong's tense shoulders, Doyoung thought, was probably because Doyoung was still a stranger to him._

_Doyoung’s attention shifted as Taeyong continued to speak. “Jaehyun says he yanked you behind the table as soon as the bomb detonated. That was a good idea, at least it could have reduced the pressure damage a bit.” Taeyong said as he applied the rest of what little ointment left in his jar on Doyoung’s ribs; then, he reached for some bandage._

_“You've still got some impact damage here and there, though. Then, Jae says he altered his own appearance to look like the local townsfolk, cast an invisibility spell on you, and calmly walked away from the Royal Patrol using the smoke as the cover.”_

_Taeyong paused to inspect the bandage, then got up._

_“You have a blast lung. It’s not the worst case I’ve seen, and I’ll make you some herbal tea to alleviate the symptoms. You should have seen yourself when Jaehyun brought you in, by Gods, you were a mess. I had to use everything in my power and reach to keep you alive. Blasted eardrums, broken ribs, blast lung, concussion, cuts, bruises, burns… You name it.” Taeyong said, handing Doyoung a steaming hot cup._

_"Careful, don’t burn yourself. Normally, none of your injuries are hard to fix, but I’m almost entirely out of supplies right now, so you gave everyone a scare. I fixed up everything that poses an immediate danger, though, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll treat your blast lung and fix that pesky broken rib as soon I get those supplies, I promise.”_

The cart continues to move. Doyoung is restless. He is not the one to sit idle, but there is absolutely nothing he can do as he sits in the cart. Reading makes him dizzy and nauseous, so revising his notes and maps is out of the question. The other man in the cart with him is a little strange and looks too unfriendly to converse with.

The man is sitting inside a tub half full of water, which is strange enough just by itself. There is also his hair, which is slightly floaty, as if underwater. There are beads of sweat collected on the man’s skin, even with the dry desert climate. The sweat must be so excessive that it can't all evaporate, as it should. Despite the excessive amount of sweat, there is no hint of a sweaty scent in the cart. If anything, it smells like the ocean. Doyoung thinks “ Maybe he’s a really sick human,” but then he notices the blue-ish scales on the man’s forearms. There is no way he’s a human.

“Can you quit staring at me?” the man finally says.

“Sorry for making you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to stare.” Doyoung says, embarrassed. He hadn't realized he's been staring. He pauses for a second, unsure of what more to say. “I’m Doyoung.”

A look of distaste flashes in the man’s eyes, but he speaks nonetheless. “I’m Sicheng. And, for the record, I’m not sitting in this damn tub because I want to. I’ll die of dehydration otherwise.”

Doyoung still doesn’t get what race Sicheng is. He’s never seen or heard of anyone like him before. “Are you… a nymph?”

Sicheng almost looks offended. “I’m no such thing,” he says. “My mother was a water djinn, and father a human. I’m a water genasi,” he concludes, a tinge of pride in his voice.

No wonder Doyoung didn’t recognize him. He’s only ever heard of water djinns, never seen one. It had never occurred to Doyoung that water genasi were possible. “Oh,” he says dumbly. “So, why do you need the tub?”

“I lose a lot of water in the desert, much quicker than humans do.” Sicheng wipes away the drops on his forehead, but more condense just a few seconds later. “Ocean water. I don’t sweat like humans do.”

That explains the oceany smell, Doyoung muses.

The rest of the cart ride goes by making small talk with Sicheng. Doyoung learns that the caravan has six people right now. Sicheng mumbles something about there being more people involved, but Doyoung doesn’t pay much mind to that. Up until now, Doyoung already knows four of them: Jaehyun, Sicheng, Yuta and Taeyong.

Yuta was the human he met right after he woke up. He’s a good fighter, according to Sicheng, his opponents don’t stand a chance in a battle. Doyoung notes never to get on Yuta’s bad side.  
Taeyong was the healer of the group. “He’s a changeling,” Sicheng helpfully provides. “Don’t be surprised if his appearance changes every now and then. Unless he’s in a disguise, he almost always looks like what you saw him as. But his hair colors change. It turns red and his face gets really fierce when he’s in a fight, or when he’s mad. Then, you should probably run. Whatever he knows how to fix, he can also break.” 

Right at that moment, the cart stops, and Taeyong climbs into the cart. “Hello, you two. M'here to fill up the tub, Sichengie.”  
A wrist flick and several indistinguishable utterances later, Sicheng’s tub is full again. Doyoung hadn’t even noticed the water run out.

“How long do we have until the campgrounds?” Sicheng asked.

“We’re about half a day away from the city, so we’ll be camping here, actually. Close enough for me to pick up the supplies tonight, far enough that the desert is still protecting us. They’ve already started to put up the tents, it’ll be ready in about an hour. As soon as they’re done, you guys can go to your tents.  
“Ah, by the way, Doyoung, you’ll be staying in Jaehyun’s tent. He said something about you two having shared rooms together before and not minding doing it again, so you have to explain that once I get back. Sichengie, Yuta will help you with the tub once your tent is set up.”

With that, Taeyong leaves the cart, leaving Doyoung under Sicheng’s inquiring gaze. Doyoung gulps. He might not have known Sicheng for very long, but he knows that look, Doyoung knows Sicheng will grill him about Jaehyun until Yuta comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is on its way
> 
> who do you think the other two are?


	3. iii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You didn't tell me you were a prince."

Doyoung drops onto his cot. He is dead tired, but sleep has to wait. Right now, he has too many questions for Jaehyun.

During the hospital stay, Jaehyun had been secretive about his identity. Doyoung wouldn’t say he didn’t know who Jaehyun is. Every waking day during the almost two-month stay was spent talking. Maybe Doyoung hadn’t known Jaehyun's name and family history, but he knew pretty much everything else there was to know.

Sicheng had filled him in on some details about Jaehyun.

“You didn’t tell me you were a prince,” Doyoung says. Jaehyun chuckles at the accusing tone.

“I didn’t tell you a lot of things; I couldn’t. I wanted to, though.” Jaehyun moves towards Doyoung. “Let’s do that after I renew your bandage, though. I have strict orders from Taeyong.”

Putting on bandages a little awkward with Jaehyun, at least compared to Taeyong. It’s hard to pin down why. Maybe it’s because the prince of their nation is the one changing his bandages. With Taeyong, it had been completely natural. Right now, Doyoung feels flustered with his shirt off. Right now, Taeyong wasn’t here, and he has assigned Jaehyun as Doyoung’s caretaker, apparently. Not that Doyoung would ever admit it, but he kind of liked having Jaehyun putting on his bandages.

Taeyong had taken the cart to go to the town, he would be back sometime tomorrow with the supplies. Until then, Jaehyun was to apply pain reducing ointment to Doyoung’s chest and back. Taeyong had profusely apologized about not having any healing ointments and said Doyoung would have to do with pain reducers until Taeyong came back.

Doyoung almost cried at how much Taeyong cared. He knew to help and heal was Taeyong’s job, and his oath by the gods was the reason he took it so seriously, but no matter the reason, it still felt so good to have someone who cared.

“I can do it myself. You don’t have to…” Doyoung trails off.

Jaehyun has a mildly annoyed expression on his face. “Is this about me being a prince? It better not be.”

Doyoung had already been a little pink in the face. Now he has no hopes left of the pink tinge being unnoticeable. “I’m just… Not used to people taking care of me. I live alone, you know that.”

“You didn’t say the same thing to Taeyong, so what’s the truth?” Jaehyun teases. Doyoung almost reaches to cover his face, but Jaehyun is still putting on the bandages. “Jokes aside,” Jaehyun says, “There is a reason why I ran from the palace. I’ll explain it to you, let me just finish putting this on.”

Jaehyun is sitting on the end of Doyoung’s cot as he did before. “I am a prince. Jung Yoonoh, the crown prince of these lands. And I hated it.”

Two years ago, the day before Jaehyun’s sister’s wedding.

_“You can’t force her to marry that man! just because you like him doesn’t mean she loves him,” Yoonoh shouts at his father. “Mother, how can you do that to your daughter? How can you force her to marry some man?”_

_“He is not some man, Yoonoh. He is a nobleman, experienced in governing people. Your father and I had an arranged marriage, and we love each other very much.” his mother says._

_“Just because you two ended up falling in love doesn’t mean she has to fall in love with that sleaze.”_

_“That’s enough, Yoonoh,” his father roars. “The wedding is tomorrow, and your coronation is approaching. This is no way to behave for a crown prince. For once, shut up, and be happy for your sister.”_

_Yoonoh had slammed the door and left. He knew nobody would follow him, so he went up to his room._

_He hates that name. He doesn’t want to be Yoonoh, he’ll never be a crown prince. His sister called him Jaehyun behind closed doors. She had said “Jaehyun was going to be your name. Your twin, Yoonoh, was to be the crown prince. Yoonoh he died a day after you two were born, so they called you Yoonoh because you were the crown prince now. But you, you have always been Jaehyunnie to me. It’s not fair to take away a child’s name."_

_He had been preparing for this day for a while. He knew he wanted to run, he just wasn’t sure when. He took his backpack he had put together a while ago and climbed up the stairs to her sister’s room._

_“I’m running,” he said to her sister, “I’m not going to be a king. I’m running, and there is nothing that can stop me.”_

_She had just nodded with tears in her eyes and hugged Jaehyun tightly one last time. “Be safe, Jaehyunnie,” she told Jaehyun, “And take Yuta with you. If you can, get Taeyong to come too. You’ll need their company. Nobody wants to be alone."_

_Then, Jaehyun had fled to the forest. He had some supplies in a wagon there, enough to let him survive in the desert. He was a skilled sorcerer, he believed he could survive in the desert, where nobody would find him._

_Just as a precaution, Jaehyun stayed where he was for a whole day. He had a gut instinct that he shouldn’t leave with the wagon right away. His gut instincts were always right._

_He wishes they weren’t._

_There is a knock on the wagon that evening. Jaehyun is alarmed, he grabs his crossbow, and slowly makes his way to the exit. He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees it’s just Taeyong and Yuta. His sister must have sent them. They both look terrified, Jaehyun notes._

_“What happened? How did you find me?”_

_“Lady Jung told us. Queen and King were going to send out a search party, but they were assassinated. We had to come and find you,” Yuta says._

_Assassinated? His parents? Jaehyun has to sit down. He had a good relationship with his parents up until the marriage, he loved them. Even though they had falling outs, like the marriage, Jaehyun still loved his parents. Now, they were dead._

_“When? Do you know who?”_

_“During the wedding. One had a heart attack, the other a stroke. Taeyong said he couldn’t help them, both had been poisoned with magic potions, so none of his treatments worked.”_

_Only then Taeyong spoke. “It was that man. That low-life, good for nothing man. He is a pawn, a pawn of the servant of Bane. They set up the assassination to look like they got sick, Lady Jung overheard them talking. She told us where you were, and told us to flee to find you. They’re keeping her captive.”_

_Jaehyun had never heard Taeyong speak like this before. The usually soft-spoken man now spoke in a low, threatening tone._

_“I should have been there,” Jaehyun said. His voice came out like a forced whisper._

_“No, you shouldn’t have. They would have either killed you or encaptured you like Lady Jung. The man and your sister will be crowned king and queen first thing tomorrow morning. The burial ceremony was today._

“I’m sorry,” are the only words Doyoung can muster. “It’s tough to lose your family. I wish I could say it gets better in time, but it doesn’t. You just learn to forget it.”

Jaehyun looks up. “What happened to your family?”

“My father was a ranger, mother a wizard. I got both of their passions: learning and nature. My dad died on one of his journeys about eight years ago. Five years ago, my mother kicked me out for wanting to become a ranger like my father.” Doyoung says.

“It’s not that she didn’t love me. She loved my father and me very much. I just don’t think she could handle losing me too, so she got angry. I got angry too and left. For five years, I have done nothing but explore the lands. I probably have the most comprehensive maps and notes about the geography of these lands.”

Jaehyun looks down on his lap. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Doyoung chuckles and sits up. “It was five years ago,” he says.

“Still. You said yourself it doesn’t get better, you just learn to forget it.”

“Then let’s forget it,” Doyoung says, looking right into Jaehyun’s eyes, voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay.” Jaehyun whispers.

The next morning, they wake up draped onto each other, neither properly lying down. Taeyong is looking at them tapping his foot, hair a dark red. Doyoung gulps. So this was what Sicheng was talking about.

“Jaehyun. You have exactly one minute and thirty seconds to explain why Doyoung wasn’t lying down properly. You better have a reason for not letting my patient rest comfortably.”

“I thought you’d be back later,” Jaehyun says. Probably not a very wise answer.  
Less than a minute and thirty seconds later, Jaehyun is kicked out of his own tent to organize the supplies Taeyong had bought as a punishment.

Taeyong’s hair still has a pinkish hue, so Doyoung does his best not to anger Taeyong again.

“I can’t fix your concussion, that will have to heal by itself,” Taeyong tells Doyoung. “The others are minor spells which I can perform right now, but water creation is a difficult spell, and so is healing any sort of brain injury. I would do it, but Sicheng will die without the water, and I couldn’t rest yesterday, so I have to preserve my energy. I can risk just one high-level spell for your injuries, and that will be for your blast lung. Sorry buddy, you’re in the cart today too. Maybe I can help with the concussion tomorrow, or after I rest."

Doyoung holds back a groan and nods. Spending time with Sicheng was actually fun, too. He is fun to talk to.

“Today, I’ll be in the cart too. I couldn’t rest yesterday while gathering supplies, so I should rest if I want to have my spellcasting abilities intact today."

Taeyong puts one hand on Doyoung’s ribcage. “The ointment I put on yesterday significantly healed your rib. Now it’s healed enough for an easy spell, which is good.” Taeyong mumbles some ancient sounding words and all the ache in Doyoung’s ribs disappear.

Another string of incoherent ancient words leaves Taeyong’s mouth, and just like that, Doyoung’s breathing becomes less strained.

“I’ve forgotten how handy it is to be able to use spells,” says Doyoung.

“You can do magic?” Taeyong asks. “Arcane or divine?"

“Arcane. I’m a ranger, so I know a few. I walked inside a cursed temple a year ago though, and ever since, something has been blocking my connection with the Weave.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can lift curses,” Taeyong tells Doyoung. “I can cure both of your injuries today, but then someone will have to go to the town to fill up our water tank. I can’t produce water for today if I both fix your concussion and lift the curse, but it would be incredibly useful to have another magic-doer. Tell me about the spells you know.”

Taeyong is finished with the healing spells for now, but he sits down next to Doyoung instead of leaving.

“I don’t know much, just four. One for detecting poison and diseases, one for locating animal and plants nearby, one to summon goodberries, and one to cure moderate wounds.”

Taeyong looks ecstatic to finally have a friend who knows healing spells. “We’re so lucky, oh my God,” he says, getting up. “I have to tell this to Jae, maybe we’ll stay here for another day, so I can lift your curse. Now, you should go to Kun, it’s his turn to cook today. He should be by the fire, not that hard to find. Just follow the good smells.”

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“Shush, by the Healing Light, I’m just doing my job. Go and get something to eat, and stay in the shades. You getting a heatstroke is the last thing I need right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're reading this i love you and thank you for making me so happy <3


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